Various projections, large and small, line up on a bright white plane that goes on everywhere.
Speaking of torn wind wilderness in a nutshell, that would be the expression.
The ground covered in fine white sand is dry and disappointingly stiff.
Where the sand rises every time the wind blows, are the coagulated white rocks that rise from the earth.
Slightly shredded by the constant gusts, the white rocks are carved into strange shapes.
Rock, sand and wind.
Nothing else, therefore the land is called the wilderness.
The border where the wind weakens.
Several carriages lined up semi-circularly where there was sparse sperm grass left, serving as a windscreen.
Inside the circle is a wooden box instead of a table, with empty barrel chairs placed around it.
Sitting back are men with fragmented back lengths and outfits.
Because of the fact that the cloth of sand is wrapped around his face, he is uncertain about his face as opposed to his expression.
All I can tell is that everyone is so tight that they can even see it from above their clothes.
And another thing, they were all hanging black adventurer bills from their necks.
One of them reached out and moved the pawn placed on the table diagonally forward.
A face to face man who sees it groans flashly.
Let's peek in from the side. Not a single one slaps his arm as impressed.
This play of pawning the twelve servants of the Creation God against each other is called the pawnboard, a play known in the central kingdom as the reward.
Apparently, a young man who was contemplating let go of the deciding hand of the synagogue.
The cornered finger looks around the board to see if there is a way to open it, but it no longer seems like a hitter.
The old man, sighing and about to give up, finds his hand on the cliff.
It was a hand from outside the board.
"Whoa, that was a good fight, but that's it for today. We have a visitor arriving."
"Hey, that's not true, Garoud"
"You're just good at running anyway. I don't know what else to do. Time for work."
It was the new carriage that came into the berth in good time at the same time as the man's declaration.
Add to the edge of the windscreen row as you reorient cleverly.
The first man to come down was a middle-aged man as the face of the table noted.
Red iron armor with brand-new sandblanket cloth over head and covering neck to chest in black thin leather armor.
The blue striped cloak flickers and reveals a sheath that lowers to the sword belt at the waist.
Looks like a swordsman, but quite a light outfit.
But the sharp eye dwelt in the unique awesomeness that only the strong were allowed to possess.
"Is that the bastard that binds the reputation guys? Unstoppable air…, there's something like that"
"Oh, I just saw it and it'll pass on to Hishihishi. This is going to be pretty good."
"... or that old mud fisherman."
"I knew it? I used to sneak off in the woods of little ghosts, you know?
"Yeah, I miss you. You were still active."
It was the young woman who then showed up from the carriage.
I grab hold of the man's offering and get off to the ground fine.
A white loose robe with a red breast covering the chest.
At the tip of the reddish cane in his hand, a blue, round crystal shone.
His face is not clear because of the cloth wrapped around his mouth, but his big black eyes and nose muscles alone are so neat that he can imagine how cute he is.
One of the men whistled small at the appearance of a beautiful young woman.
"Oh, you've got a cute little girl. Besides, you look pretty young."
"Does Rain Crystal Stoned Wand Mean Water Use?
"No, that looks good. I've never heard of it. I'm talking about using weird magic tricks."
The third woman to come out of the carriage was a woman about one cobbler taller than the girl.
He has a short cleric wand with ice-crystal stone and gracefully wraps a white cloth around his hair and neck.
The top has a white breastplate from the top of the black chenic, and the lower body is raised with a line of laid-back feet because of the perfect trousers.
The men swallowed their saliva to a level of beauty that was rarely seen.
"... wow. Even on the chest, I know exactly how big it is."
"You're a rare Grey Ear adventurer. You're too sturdy. Don't worry about it, it's not an adventure anymore."
"Besides, you suddenly have black steel ink. Who the hell showed up?
The last appearance was a young child.
He jumps off the carriage with momentum with only his eyes out and a white cloth glued around his face.
I turned forward with Cologne as it was and stood up lightly.
Red cape with short sleeves and half trousers. Larger boots on longer socks.
The only thing that seems to be protective is the black covering of your elbows and knees.
"Why a child?!
"You don't know? That's the rumored thunderous kid. One genius in a hundred years?"
"Was it true, that? Is there only four of you?
"No one with a shield? Yet there is no healing hand. No way, that kid?
"If you're a lightning man, you're a classic..."
"So, what do you want me to do?
It was the man known as Garoud who asked the people who had a reputation of their choice.
The face is pierced because of her cheekbeard, but is it still in her mid-thirties?
There are short horns on the forehead, with gassilli and a thick fleshy body wrapped in white hard copper full body armor.
To Garud's words, the four C-ranked men facing each other shook their heads uniformly vertically.
It is an unsuitable opponent of common sense, but it should be considered a few times more powerful than a concurrent party than it has been so far.
"... all of them. Good for you, very popular, Thor."
"Long time no see, Garoud. You were still an adventurer."
"That's the dialogue over here. I was worried I'd quit because I was so old."
The two, who had a nigga and a laugh, hit each other hard with the cobwebs they offered.
Garud of the Tea Horn Clan is Adventurer No. 1, the first time Thor guided the Little Ghost Forest.
It was an unexpected pattern because I was only four years old, but as Garud's rank increased, the amount of time I could see him was reduced and long alienated.
"So, what are you talking about being popular?
"Well, I'm talking about who's going to take your guide."
"Oh, you're the guide. Don't help me."
A road guide is a mechanism approved by the Adventurer's Bureau in the torn wind wilderness alone.
This barren wilderness, which is allowed to be challenged from the D-rank, is endlessly wide and the first difficulty you will not be safe if you try to move on to the dark clouds.
The Tors' new goal in such a tough place was to find a dungeon that occurs behind the wilderness.
Its dungeons, called the Rock House Fort of Oak, are created over a period of time in rocky mountains and canyons dotted in the wide wilderness.
It is a depths that cannot be reached without walking for more than a day and is not an easy substitute to find.
Many of the adventurers who have now become accustomed to the lukewarm environment of the bloodshed river fall out unbearable to the sudden changes in the land.
So what I came up with as a help for my exploratory row on unfamiliar land was what I would call a road guide by the earlier C-rank adventurers.
It is a habit that even the deputy director, Sackow, could not be discontinued for too much wear and tear in the land.
The conductor is basically one per party.
It is only a role to teach the leading and troublesome presence in the safety zone and will not participate in the battle at all.
Help is provided in the most dangerous situations, but the search itself ends there.
There will be no guides themselves at parties that are in such crisis more than once.
Because I can't expect anything in return for directing the way.
The goal of the C-rank adventurers is to dominate Fort Rock in Oak, so there's no use for parties that can't get that far.
Conversely, if the party that accompanied them successfully discovered the dungeon, it was a mechanism whereby the adventurers who guided them were given the right of challenge priority.
Therefore, a prospective party will be named by a guide in competition.
"I'd say it's more dull, but all of a sudden you can choose even when you say it"
"So is that. Then don't want a guide."
"Ha, that's funny. Well, if everyone wants to, it's actually settled. I'm talking about choosing the right one so I don't rot."
"Really? You can rest assured of your choice."
The hardest part of fighting monsters is said to be their behavior on defeat.
If scattered without thinking later, there is a risk of secondary damage.
If you greed to reduce the damage indefinitely, you will come out to the point of losing sight of the time of escape and fearing total annihilation.
In that regard, Shield Garud had a reputation for his good retreat.
His nickname is Garoud, who is a good runner, because of his appearance that he stomps to the point of criticism but does not make the wrong choice and does not lose his people as one.
The Tea Horn shield, who made him snort confidently, looks around the table in a thoughtful manner.
And with his arms around him, he called someone's name sharply.
"Hey, Sarah. It's work."
It was not the men in front of me who responded to that call.
A side door opens in the middle of one of the carriages that was lined up, and someone shows their face.
Straight brunette hair extending all the way around the shoulder blades.
Black eyes with slightly drooling blues and a nose facing upwards.
What appeared was a Ethereal woman with blue scaly skin from neck to jaw.
Quickly the beauty, wrapped around a sandcloth, approaches Tor with the harp in her hand.
And he greeted her gracefully, rocking a hint of decoration on the blue top.
"I've only been a guide for less than a year, but he's a pretty good player."
"Nice to meet you, Thor."
"Nice to meet you, my name is Salarisa"
Having learned that voice and a strong visionary sensation of appearance, Tor unwittingly utters the question that came to his mind.
"Could she?
When I first guided Garud, I wasn't actually alone.
Behind the young man with the shield was a Ethereal Scale girl with the same appearance as Sarah.
The girl's name is Celse.
He was an excellent water user and has since continued to party with Garoud and has been a lifelong partner around getting promoted to the E-rank.
Surely one child should have been born as well.
"Oh, this girl is Serse's sister. You look a lot alike."
"I'm surprised. Oh, no. How's your wife?
A grin disappeared from Garud's mouth slightly diverted his gaze from Tor's casual words.
The man, who stepped forward as he was, looks quietly at the white plain from the gap of the carriage.
And Garoud, with his back turned, told a pale and heartless fact.
"Serse went missing three years ago in this wilderness. I've been looking for it, but I haven't found it yet"